Sick Day
by Elfpen
Summary: The facts: One, Will is sick. Two, it's time for the annual Ranger Gathering, and Will isn't going to miss it. So, can the ranger apprentice use his honed skills, wit, and charm to pull a case of the flu unnoticed past Halt? Well, Will seems to think so.
1. Sick

Title: Sick Day

Author: Elfpen

Summary: The facts are simple. One, Will is undoubtedly, inarguably, and quite entirely sick. Two, it's time for the Ranger Corps Gathering again, and Will isn't going to miss it for the world. So, can the Ranger apprentice somehow use his honed skills, wit, and natural charm to pull a raging case of the flu unnoticed past Halt? Well, Will seems to think so.

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Slowly, Will drifted towards consciousness. His internal ticker told him that it should be sometime around daybreak. However, as he lied in his bed slowly waking from his slumber, something felt off. His mind felt sluggish and groggy. He frowned. As his body woke with his mind, he registered with no small discomfort a horrible ache in his limbs and extremities. His frown deepened as he noted that in addition to this, his head was throbbing loudly, his eyes were gritty, and his ears and jaw were tight. Slowly, comprehension dawned, and a sinking feeling formed in Will's gut as he added up his symptoms. His horrible suspicions were confirmed when he swallowed. The taste he encountered was thick and bitter, leaving a grimace on his face. It was a taste he recognized, one that he was none too pleased to find. It was the taste of disease.

Nothing fatal, Will knew. A common cold, or perhaps a more threatening virus, but nothing that the doctors of Araluen hadn't seen and conquered before. Nonetheless, Will was extremely irritated, to say the least. Illnesses were annoying. They were painful, and they seemed to last for ages. To add to it, there was one blaring thought in Will's mind that just twisted the knife in farther. Today was the day that he and Halt were supposed to leave for the Gathering of the Ranger Corps. He had been looking forward to the Gathering for weeks - no, months. He had been counting off the days until he and Halt would finally go to see the rest of the Rangers at their annual meeting, And now that it was finally here, the apprentice had fallen victim to a petty illness.

Forcing himself into a sitting position with dizzying results, Will quietly cursed whatever disease had taken him, and tossed his bed covers aside. As this warmth was cast away, Will felt a dry chill run through his body. Cursing again, he stood to his feet, which sent his head throbbing even louder in his ears. His body swayed uncertainly as he staggered toward his ranger cloak, hanging on the wall. He draped the rough mottled fabric over his sleep clothes and huddled into its warm relief from his feverish chill. He stood there brooding for a minute or so, before glaring angrily at the mirror hanging over his small dresser. He looked horrible, he mused. His mop of hair was in a total disarray, and his eyes were bloodshot and had dark circles under them. The glands just under his jaw line were visibly swollen, and to top it all off, the combination of sleep clothes and a ranger cloak created a ridiculous look. He sighed. He was sure that if he were to speak, his voice would come out raspy and hoarse.

Halt would be disappointed, Will considered. The grizzled ranger would probably resent having to stay behind and care for a sickly apprentice instead of attending the annual Gathering. Will huffed. So much for the Gathering, he thought. He had been hoping to see Gilan again. It had been a while since Will had seen the tall young ranger, and he was rather fond of Gilan's jokes and easy-going nature. Even as the apprentice thought about his friend, he suddenly had an idea. A crazy, senseless, stupid idea. But, in his sickly state and with his adamantly determined nature, Will saw it as his only hope. Perhaps, he thought carefully, if he tried very hard to act and sound normal, and didn't let on that anything was amiss with his health, Will could convince Halt that he wasn't sick. And maybe, just maybe, he would get to go to the Gathering after all.


	2. A Dangerous Game

A/N: Thanks, everyone, for the reviews! They really do mean a lot to me. So, Will is quite sick, so now let's see if he can convince his dear craftmaster Halt otherwise… Anyone want to place bets? :P

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Halt sipped at his coffee with partial interest as he packed up a small pouch of dried fruit, cold meat, and bread for their trek to the gathering grounds. To the casual observer, the grizzled ranger would have appeared as gruff and hard as ever, but in all actuality, Halt was in a rather uplifted mood. This would be Will's second time to the gathering since his becoming Halt's apprentice, though it would be the first time the apprentice was actually evaluated by his elders. With the events of the Kalkara assassins during the Gathering two years ago, there was hardly time for Halt's new apprentice to be assessed by the other rangers. The year after that, Will had been imprisoned and Halt had been exiled - hardly the circumstances to attend the Gathering properly, Halt reflected. Now, however, both Will and Halt were safe and sound at Redmont fief, there was no immediate war to attend to, and, as Halt observed, the spring weather was immaculate for travel. And Halt was quite looking forward to seeing how well his protégé would do at his first evaluation.

Even as he pondered his apprentice's abilities as a ranger, Halt flicked his head around to face what sounded to be a loud crash coming from Will's bedroom. The ranger's brows came together ever so slightly. He watched Will's door for a moment, before looking away. He could have sworn he heard whispering coming from the room in question, and briefly, Halt wondered why on earth the boy would be talking to himself. But, dismissively, Halt accounted it to the mysteries of youth, and carried on with his task of packing provisions for their traveling. He had already fed, watered, and saddled Abelard and Tug, and had packed up his own bedroll. Now, all that was left for the Ranger to do was to get the food packed, get another cup of coffee into his system, and once Will woke up, they would be on their way.

Speak of the Devil, Halt thought wryly as he heard the latch on Will's door rise.

"Morning, Will." He said, not looking up from his work. He heard footfalls coming up from behind.

"Mornig, Hald." Came the mispronounced response. Halt's eyebrows twitched together in a confused look for a fraction of a second, before he regained his normal composure. He turned around to look at Will, who sniffled.

"How are you feeling this morning?" Halt asked conversationally. Will gave a little cough, looked up at Halt and said, in a matter-of-fact, happy manner,

"I'm good. How about you, Halt?" Will said. Somehow, his words didn't match his appearance, Halt thought. The previous nasally tone that had greeted him was gone, masked by a large amount of hard determination on Will's part to speak normally, despite his clogged sinuses. His riding clothes were hastily and sloppily put on, and his hair was a mess. The dark circles under his eyes and fever-flushed complexion belied his mock energetic mood, and Halt thought he saw the boy shivering underneath the warm folds of his ranger cloak. He could tell how hard Will was trying to keep his body under control, but as clear as he could see the daylight outside, Halt could see the illness coming through in the dark-haired boy who stood before him. For a moment, Halt felt for his apprentice, mulling silently for a moment on the horrible timing of it all. Then, partly out of amusement, partly to see where Will planned to take this, Halt decided to play along with Will's little game.

"That's good. I was just packing up some provisions for our journey. You should pack up your bedroll and put it out on Tug's saddle. We'll be going, soon enough." After he said this, Halt moved away to put the food with the other things that they'd be bringing along. As he passed, he caught the glimmer of triumph, however unfounded as it was, that flickered through Will's eyes. He thought he had fooled his master, Halt thought. Oh, how much this boy had to learn. Halt indulged in a sly grin as Will went back to his room to gather his bedroll and fetch his weapons. Picking up a small pile of supplies, Halt calmly strode out the front door of their humble abode and went over to Abelard.

"You know, for however courageous and witty that boy is, it never ceases to amaze me how naive and utterly gullible he can be when he puts his mind to it." Halt told his shaggy-haired friend. Abelard looked over at Halt with intelligent eyes as his master attached small packs to his saddle. "Indeed, the boy is very intelligent," Halt continued, "I don't doubt that. But sometimes I think he has too much determination for his own good. It'll be his downfall, someday. In the meantime, however, we'll see just how far he lets this little game of his wear on, shall we?" Halt looked into the dark eyes of his horse. "Perhaps young Will shall learn his lesson today concerning the misconceived notion that he can fool his master." Halt said. Abelard snorted and gave his amused assent.

It was at that moment that Will came out the door, bedroll in hand. He worked in silence as he attached his bedroll to Tug's saddle, and, following Halt's lead, mounted up. Halt pulled up the hood of his cloak and nodded to Will and Tug to fall into step beside him as they started out on their journey. They rode in silence for several minutes, something that came as a surprise to Halt. Normally, Will's irrepressible curiosity would have gotten the better of him by now. Halt glanced over at his apprentice. At a glance, Halt supposed that Will probably had other things on his mind at the moment. In the cool spring breeze, even with his cloak on, Will was in a violent bout of feverish shivering that the boy was desperately trying to conceal, Halt could tell. Hidden in the shadows of his cowl, Halt's brow furrowed in concern and pity. The poor boy must be running a nasty temperature, he mused. And it would only get worse as they headed further out. This game must end soon. Halt took it upon himself to break the silence.

"Hopefully this year will be less… Eventful than years past." Halt said casually. Will made no response, so the ranger continued. "After all, two years ago, there was the Kalkara, and last year, the two of us were both a bit preoccupied." Halt paused, before adding, "I suppose that would make this your first year to be evaluated by the others, wouldn't it? I assume you remember everything I told you about the evaluations? Halt turned towards Will. Will took a minute to process the question before answering in his controlled voice,

"Yes, Halt." Will said. And then again there was that cough that Halt had noticed.

"Good." Halt said. "Of course, I have no doubts that you'll do fine. Then again," He added, with a carefully measured amount of foreshadowing in his voice, "The tests and assessments that Crowley has a knack for cooking up are anything but easy." Halt took in Will's sudden air of nervousness with satisfaction. His plan was working. "One has to be in peak physical condition to meet the standards of the evaluation. Your mind must be sharp, your senses alert. Otherwise, you could find yourself in a rather uncomfortable position."

"Uncomfortable?" Will asked apprehensively, "How so?"

"Well," Halt said innocently, "It depends in which and how many of the tests that the student fails in, but there are a range of consequences that could follow evaluation. But don't worry, Will, you're in good health, and you should do just fine." Halt put a slight emphasis on the word _health_. The grizzled ranger had to pull up his hood further so that Will couldn't see the grin that was slowly spreading on his face. He could almost _feel _Will's anxiety growing. Any minute now, his composure would burst, and he would be asking questions again. _3, 2, 1…_

Right on cue: "Halt?" Will asked experimentally.

"Yes?"

"What would happen, if, say, an apprentice _weren't _in top physical condition for the evaluation?" He asked, a slightly nervous tinge audible in his voice.

"Will, like I said, you needn't worry about that. You're in perfectly good shape to pass the evaluations without much difficulty." Halt assured him. But Will pressed on.

"Well… Hypothetically speaking."

Halt let out a thoughtful sigh. "Well, there wouldn't be much of a choice." Halt said, "The apprentice would most likely be expelled from the corps. If the student can't even pass the evaluations, then they can't stand up as a full fledged ranger." The ranger shrugged at his pupil. Of course, Halt was stretching the consequences of failure to the extreme. In reality, there were little, if any, direct consequences of failing the evaluations aside from increased training. But Will didn't know this, and so he believed his mentor quite readily.

There was a tension-strung lull in the conversation, before Will said nervously:

"Um, Halt, there's something I should tell you…" Will stuttered uncharacteristically, his voice becoming slightly nasally and sick-sounding again. Halt smirked to himself and grunted in mild triumph.

"Really? I never would have guessed." He said sarcastically. Will started to look apologetic, but then his eyes darted up to look at Halt as the weight of the Ranger's tone of voice sunk in.

"You- You knew?!" He asked incredulously. Halt made no response, but grinned a bit wider.

"Will, Tug and Abelard will be flying the day that you pull the wool over my eyes like that. Of course I knew. You're sick, and in absolutely no shape to be going to the Gathering." Halt concluded in a light, but authoritative tone.

Will sat wordlessly in the saddle for a moment, sniffling and coughing freely, since there was now no reason to hide his sickness, before he repeated, "But… You knew."

"Yes."

"Then why did we start riding? Why didn't you make me stay home?" Will asked his teacher.

"Well," Halt said, "I wanted to show you that it is a very bad idea to go out when you're ill. You never know what you might face. Being sick, even mildly, can mean your death if you're caught in a bad situation. I also wanted to see how you planned on pulling it off. It's rather hard to hide a fever, Will. Especially one that's as fierce as the one that's gotten a hold of you." Halt glanced over at Will, who was still trying to hide his violent shivering. "Speaking of which," Halt said in a grimmer manner, "We need to get you back home before you rattle yourself to pieces."

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A/N: Eh, sorry about the abrupt chapter ending. But don't be too disappointed! There's more to come! COMING NEXT: Gilan is a bit confused as to why his favorite former-master and young ranger haven't shown up at the gathering, even after three days. So, he takes it upon himself to find out.

Also, if I was mistaken about Will not being evaluated the first two gatherings that he could have attended, I am very sorry. Blame me and call this story an A/U. I was just using my own kind of logic and imagination to the purpose of a plot device. :P

Thanks for reading!


	3. Worry

A/N: Here's the third bit! Poor Gilan is worried over his old master and Will…. So he goes to investigate!

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Gilan watched the slowly setting sun with growing concern. It was late afternoon, and the Gathering was well underway. It was the second day of the Ranger's annual meeting, and all of the normal goings-on were running smoothly without too much commotion aside from the normal hubbub, and everyone had showed up with nothing but good or benign news. Well, _almost _everyone. Gilan sighed as he turned back toward camp. Halt and Will still hadn't arrived. It was uncharacteristic for the grizzled ranger to be late – especially late to the Gathering. It was rare for any ranger to be this late, but of all rangers, Halt would never, _ever _be late, Gilan mused. Possibilities of what could have happened to Halt and Will ran through Gilan's mind endlessly – all of them included some form of pain, suffering, or peril for his former master and his young apprentice. Though he didn't want to admit it, Gilan was rather worried. Surely, if something was wrong, Halt would have sent word ahead of him to the Gathering to explain. If he had, such news would arrive soon enough.

And yet… Gilan's gut twisted. He cared deeply for Halt, and also for Will, with whom he'd become good friends. If something had happened to detain them from travel… He worried for them. Yes, they were both perfectly capable of protecting themselves, and yes, they were both very skilled at the art of staying alive under any number of circumstances, yet… Gilan couldn't repress the restlessness he felt at not knowing why they were running so darn late to something as important as the Gathering.

_Oh, stop worrying like an old maid. _Gilan told himself. _What a childish thing to do. They'll show up. They'll be here. They will. Just… Wait. _Of course, waiting is easier said than done. He talked to the other rangers for a while, just small talk about the weather, the state of any given fief, or of bows and hunting. He even exchanged some 'ranger stories' with Crowley about the different misadventures that came with being a ranger to a Araluen fiefdom. It burned some time. But he still worried about Halt and Will. He eventually resorted to fletching arrows. Night fell. The rangers shared a supper of stew. _It's better when Halt prepares it. _Gilan thought. He tried to sleep that night. He failed. At dawn, He rose and went straight to Crowley's tent.

"I'm leaving." He told the Commandant. "I'm going to find Halt and Will." And with that, he packed up his essentials onto Blaze's saddle, and set off to Redmont fief.

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Halt's brow was creased in an uncharacteristically clear expression of concern and concentration. Will's condition had only slightly improved since they'd returned to their small cottage two days before, and it had Halt worried. The boy was completely exhausted from constant shivering, and was running a dangerously high temperature. Briefly, Halt wondered if he would have to send word to a physician. He hoped it would not come to that. Gingerly, the ranger reached over and flipped the damp cloth that lay over Will's forehead and smoothed the boy's hair away from his face.

"Will?" He asked quietly. No response. He supposed that his apprentice was too feverish to understand him, much less respond. He sighed. He'd never seen Will sick before, and to have him shaking uncontrollably under a mountain of blankets was not the best situation for either of them to be in. Halt glanced out the window. It was dark out. Usually, he would be in bed by now, but with Will in the condition that he was in, he couldn't allow himself to sleep. He turned back to the sickly boy in the bed next to him.

"Come on now, Will, fight it. You have to break this fever, or it could mean your life." He told the unresponsive boy. His voice was an odd mix of softness and gruffness. With some effort, the ranger gently lifted his apprentice into a semi-sitting position and slowly poured an herbal tea into his mouth. Instinctively, even when barely conscious, Will swallowed the medicinal substance without much resistance. Halt set the mug back down on the side table and eased Will back down onto the pillows. The boy stirred slightly in his feverish stupor, groaning quietly when his body protested against his painful movements. But, Halt noticed with some relief, the boy was starting to sweat. A good sign. It told him that finally, after two days, Will's fever was beginning to break. Halt sighed quietly in relief. Will was far from being out of the woods, but it was a start. His shivering wasn't gone yet, but it was lessening. He seemed, for the first time, to be sleeping peacefully as his fever lessened its grip on his body. Halt reached for the cloth on Will's forehead and dipped it in the water basin that sat on the bedside table. As he replaced it on his apprentice's forehead, there was a resounding knock on the cabin's front door. Halt's brow furrowed. There were only a handful of people who would come looking for him this late at night. The ranger glanced at Will, made sure the boy wasn't dying before his eyes, and then went to answer the door.

"Gilan?" The ranger asked, surprised. "What are you doing here this late at night?" It was only when he spoke at normal volume that Halt realized how hoarse his voice had become from the loss of sleep he had endured over the past few nights.

"Halt! Thank God you're okay." The young ranger looked genuinely relieved. "You look horrible. I came here to see why you and Will aren't at the gathering. Where have you been? What's going on? And what on earth happened to your eyes? They're all dark. Halt, have you been sleeping at all this past week?"

_Apprentices…They're all the same. _Halt thought to himself. _Nothing but questions, no matter how old they get. _"I'm fine." Halt assured the younger ranger. "Will is a different case, however."

Gilan's features came together in a worried look. "What happened? Is he alright?"

Halt sighed. _Too many questions, too late at night. _"He's… He'll live, Gilan. I think. He woke up with a nasty fever two days ago." Halt let out a humorless, gruff laugh. "Tried to disguise it, too. Failed miserably, to say the least. He's been bed ridden for these past few nights, and his fever just now broke. I'm sorry we couldn't make it to the gathering. I couldn't expect him to go."

"Dear Lord," Gilan breathed, "Are you sure he'll be alright? Do you know-"

"Halt?" A low, quiet moan sounded from the other end of the cabin. Halt's head snapped around when he heard it, and without a single thought to Gilan, he was charging back to Will's bedroom. Will lay in his bed, sickly, sweaty, his eyes barely cracked open.

"Wahapne?" He slurred out through cracked lips.

"What is it, Will?" Hald asked softly, smoothing out the boy's hair. Will paused and swallowed.

"What happened?" He sounded out with great effort.

"You're sick." Halt said. "You've been in bed for two days, now."

It took a moment or two for this to get across to the boy. "Oh." He said simply. It was obvious he would have liked to have said more, but he was weak and the effort caused him pain.

"But you'll be fine, Will." Halt told him. As he said this, he hoped what he said was true. "You need to rest, to fight the fever. Drink this." Halt reached over and grabbed another mug of the medicine-laced tea and helped Will to drink it. Just after Halt had replaced the cup to the table, Will was sleeping again. Gilan entered the room.

"Halt, he looks bloody awful." Gilan said as he looked down at Will sympathetically.

Halt nodded. "Unfortunately I don't know if that will change any time soon." The tail end of his sentence was distorted by a yawn, which created an undignified, decidedly un-Halt like expression on the Ranger's face. Gilan hid a smile.

"Halt," He said, not unkindly, "You should sleep."

"I'm fine, Gilan." Halt protested, ignoring his body's demands for rest. "I need to take care of Will." He turned his eyes back to his apprentice.

"No," Gilan insisted. "You need _sleep._" Gilan stepped around Halt to look him in the eye. Halt ignored him and kept looking at Will. "You can't very well take care of the boy when you yourself are about to fall over from exhaustion." Gilan said. Halt didn't even look at his former apprentice. Gilan squinted at the other ranger, assessing the dark circles and the weariness once more. "Halt, you haven't slept a wink for three days, have you?" No response. Gilan took Halt's silence as an equivalent to 'yes'. He sighed. In a gentler, more reassuring tone, he said: "Look, Halt, I'll look after Will for the night. I'll take care of him and keep his fever in check. Okay? Just go get some sleep. Lord knows you need it." It was only after he said this that Halt looked at him.

"Fine." The grizzled ranger relented. "But if he gets any worse at all, or if something happens, Gilan, wake me up."

"Alright, Halt. Now go to bed." Gilan told him. "He'll be fine. He's a strong boy."

Halt nodded, half in agreement, half in thanks, and headed towards his own room down the hall. Gilan looked back over at Will and the beads of sweat running down his face. He removed a few of the blankets from Will's bed, then settled into the chair situated at Will's bedside.

"Well, Will, one thing's for sure." Gilan told the unconscious boy. "You've gotten yourself into one royal mess."


	4. The Visitor

Author's Note: Sorry about the long delay. I actually was nearly finished with this chapter… And then my computer crashed. Badly. Like, the kind of bad that I had to wipe the hard drive for. Needless to say, I was less than happy about that. But I got back up and re-wrote it. Hopefully it is enjoyable. :)

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Will felt like he was drowning. He was quite sure that his head was immersed in water. His brains were swimming around inside his skull, his eyes were trying to pop out of their sockets, and some foreign force was forbidding him to take breath through his nose, making his head throb painfully. But despite all this, he was somehow drawing breath after ragged breath. It was a strange mystery, and in other circumstances, the sensation would have held his curiosity captive. As it was, however, his mind was much too tired to care. He tried to bring his hand up to his face to rub his sore eyes, but found it was weighed down by what felt like rocks. He lifted his lips in a grimace and they cracked painfully. An involuntary groan grated against his raw throat. He sighed heavily through his bleeding lips. He was quite sure that there wasn't a single part of his whole body that didn't hurt. He would have liked to moan despairingly or perhaps punch his flat pillow, but knew that it would only cause more pain. A pity, he thought, that he couldn't even express his frustration with his situation without making that situation worse.

"Will?" A tentative voice asked.

Will's brow furrowed slightly. Now that wasodd. If he didn't know any better, he would have said that Gilan had just called his name. But it was a silly fancy, he knew. Gilan was at the gathering. And Will knew that he was definitely _not _at the gathering. He was painfully aware of that fact. Halt had insisted that they stay home because Will was sick. The voice must be Halt, Will reasoned. Odd, though, that Halt's voice should sound so high. And accent-less. And young-sounding. _The illness is messing with my hearing._ Will thought. He ventured to open his eyes. His room was painfully bright this morning, and he squeezed his eyes shut again. He heard footfalls stepping away from his bedside, and then the sound of his curtains pulling across their curtain rod. The footsteps came back towards him.

"Sorry. Try again." Halt said. _He sounds so weird. _

Will slowly opened his eyes again, squinting slightly. His eyes weren't completely focused yet, but he could see Halt's figure above him, and to his surprise, distinctly made out a mop of blonde hair atop his head, and two blue orbs in place of the dark eyes he knew. Before he could stop himself, he said weakly:

"Halt, what happened to your face?"

The figure laughed. "I think that sickness might be messing with your head, Will. It's Gilan."

"Gilan?" Will managed an incredulous tone, despite his quiet voice. His eyes were focusing. Halt - now Gilan - was smiling at him kindly.

"Hello, Will."

"W-What are you doing here?"

"Taking care of you, of course." Gilan spoke softly and gently, aware that Will's hearing would be sensitive. "You and Halt really need to learn to tell me when you're going to be absent from the gathering. I thought the two of you had gone and gotten yourselves killed."

"Sorry, Gilan," Will started apologetically, "I wanted to come, but Halt thought that-"

"It's alright, Will. Halt was right to keep you home. I was just worrying like a silly old maid. It's good to see you awake, though. You gave Halt and I quite a scare last night. Do you want to sit up?"

Will nodded, and expressed his gratitude when Gilan helped him up into a half-sitting position and put another pillow behind his back.

Will frowned as a thought struck him. "Where is Halt?" he asked.

"Asleep. I swore I would wake him up once you were awake… But he really needs the sleep… Just… Don't tell him, will you?"

"Don't tell me what?" Halt had come up behind Gilan, and was now standing in the doorway, arms crossed.

Despite his cracked lips, Will couldn't repress a smile.

Gilan, his back to Halt, winced, then spun around suddenly, now smiling.

"Halt! You're awake! Brilliant, I was just about to wake you up… Will's awake!"

Halt looked at his former apprentice, one eyebrow raised high over a decidedly un-amused expression. "I can see that." He looked over at his current apprentice, his expression unchanged. "Good morning, Will. How are you feeling?"

"Absolutely horrible." Will's blunt statement clashed oddly with his lingering smile. Halt took no notice.

"Understandably so. I'll put the kettle on. Gilan, fetch some mugs, will you?" He walked off without another word. Gilan watched him leave, and turned to Will.

"_How does he do that?" _he mouthed. Will wished smiling didn't hurt so much. He shrugged. Gilan shook his head in mild disbelief and followed Halt to the kitchen.

Once they were both gone, Will winced. His lips were now bleeding badly, and his throat was a bit sore from talking. He was feeling a little better than before, though, now that he was sitting upright. He could tell that it was midmorning by the light coming in through at the edges of the curtains. A sudden chill ran over him, and he pulled his blankets closer around him. He heard the kettle whistle. Soon, Gilan and Halt were walking back into the room. Halt handed him a mug of steaming liquid. Will peered over the side of the mug and saw that it was tea. He frowned in mild despair.

"Can I not have coffee?" He asked. Halt grunted disapprovingly.

"The last thing you need right now is caffeine. Tea will be better for now. It'll do more for your throat, too." Halt sipped at his own mug, which, Will's nose told him, was filled with dark coffee. He couldn't help but feel a bit envious, but he sipped at his tea anyway. He was surprised at the pleasant, sweet flavor. Gilan must have made it – Halt never put this much sugar in any kind of drink. He eyed the young ranger, who sat drinking his coffee quietly. Gilan met his gaze and winked. Will smiled gratefully and sipped at his tea some more, enjoying the way it coated his raw throat, giving him a temporary reprieve from the cough-inducing pain.

They sat in silence for a while, nursing their drinks, making occasional small talk. Eventually, Gilan rose to go out and feed the horses their morning meal, and brush down Blaze. Halt finished his coffee and went over to sit on Will's bed next to him. He lifted a hand to the boy's forehead.

"Hmm, a slight fever." He said, his face showing a rare expression of pity. "Better than last night, though. Are you cold?"

Will gave a half shrugged. "A bit." He said weakly.

Halt nodded. "Keep those blankets on. I'll take that." He reached for Will's now-empty mug. He transferred it to his left hand, and grasped Will's shoulder with his right, giving it a squeeze as he rose, a rare act of affection from the gruff ranger. Will smiled at the gesture.

He heard the door to their cabin creak open, and knew that Gilan must have come back in. It was nice to have Gilan here, Will thought. He'd missed the young ranger over the past several months, and was happy to him here to cheer things up. Not that Halt wasn't pleasant to be around – honestly, Will enjoyed his master's company very much. But Halt could not exactly be described as 'cheerful'. Gilan was simply fun to be around – and that was a considerable bright spot in his day, especially considering how horribly sick he was. Which was why he was rather alarmed when he heard Halt talking to Gilan in the other room:

"You should probably leave later today to report back to Crowley."

Will's heart sank, and he heard Gilan's footsteps still on the floorboards.

"What?" Gilan voiced the word that Will was thinking.

Halt sighed. "Always questions." He said to himself. Then louder, "I'm assuming you left in the middle of the gathering to get here. And I'm assuming you told Crowley that you were leaving, and I think that he would like to know where you are – where all of us are. I have to stay here with Will. You need to go back and explain the situation to Crowley."

"I'll send a messenger ahead." Gilan said.

"Blaze is faster. Besides, you can't just give away the location of the Ranger Corps gathering to a simple messenger."

"Halt, I…It…" Gilan opened his mouth, but could not find any words.

In the other room, Will holding his breath. He really hoped that Halt would let Gilan stay. In fact, he wasn't sure why he was insisting that the other ranger leave – he knew that Halt enjoyed Gilan's company. When he didn't hear Gilan answer, he became a bit worried.

"You'll probably do best to leave within a few hours," Halt was saying. "I'll put on breakfast so you can leave as soon as possible…"

Will had heard enough. Ignoring the fact that getting up was probably a horrible idea, he threw back the blankets and put his bare feet to the floor, and nearly ran into the doorframe on his way into the main living area.

"Can I have a say in this?" He said, stumbling into the room. Halt and Gilan both turned quickly around to look at him.

"Will, you shouldn't be up, you need to-" Halt started to say.

In an unusual show of boldness, Will interrupted his master. "Why does Gilan have to leave?" He asked. Halt raised an eyebrow.

"To explain to Crowley why we weren't at the gathering."

"But why does _he _have to go? Send a messenger." Will said reasonably.

"I thought we'd gone over this. You can't just send any old messenger to the gathering grounds."

"No, no, not to the gathering. To Castle Araluen. The gathering will be over by the time Gilan gets there. Why not just send a message on for Crowley when he returns?" He explained.

Gilan straightened, seeing the reason in this argument. He turned to Halt.

"I'll start writing a letter immediately – It'll be on its way before this evening."

"Gilan," Halt said, "I'm sure that Blaze can get you there in plenty of time."

"Blaze will be tired after riding for two days." Will put in.

"He's barely been unsaddled for half a day." Gilan added.

"You'd have to run him hard all day to even hope to get there in time-"

"And if I missed it by even a few hours, I'd have run him all for nothing. That's just cruel-"

"It's not such an urgent message that Crowley needs it before the gathering is over-"

"It really is just better if I write up a message to send to him by messenger-"

"Halt, I really don't see why you're so intent on him leaving, he just got here-"

Then, Will and Gilan both spoke in unison:

"So why do I have to leave?"

"Why does he have to leave?

Halt held up a hand. "Enough, both of you." He turned to Gilan. "Why are you so intent on staying, anyway?" He asked.

"Well… I haven't seen either of you for a whole year. It's good to see you – even if Will is sick." He said sincerely.

Halt surveyed him for a moment, and turned to Will. "And what about you?"

Will shrugged. "I haven't seen him for a year… I missed him. I was looking forward to seeing him at the gathering, and now he's here. He's fun to be around." He said. Gilan seemed genuinely touched by the compliment, and smiled at Will.

Halt sighed, ignoring the kind sentiment. He looked at both of his apprentices, former and current. They were both wearing identical faces of pleading, waiting on his word, the final word, on whether or not Gilan could stay. They looked like puppies, Halt mused. Had he known that they would be so opposed to Gilan leaving, he wouldn't have proposed the idea. Frankly, he was surprised at how long he'd been able to lead them on. He supposed he would have to give in to their argument eventually. But not without some pain on their part, first. The room was painfully silent as Halt mused to himself, Gilan and Will hanging on his every move. Halt sighed heavily, crossed his arms and rolled his eyes upward, all in dramatic effect. Will sniffled. Gilan fidgeted. Halt looked at each one of them in turn, and paused again for good measure.

"Fine." He said. The two other rangers let out the breath they'd been holding. Halt quickly rounded on Gilan. "But I want that letter off to the capitol by sundown, understand?"

"Yes, Halt." Gilan said, beaming. Will was smiling, too.

"Now help me get breakfast ready. As for you…" He turned on Will. A gruff reprimand was on his lips, but then he saw a shiver run over his feverish apprentice, and he frowned. "I thought I told you to keep those blankets on." He said in a gentler voice. "Come on. Back to bed with you. Go on." Halt shooed him back into his bedroom, and saw to it that he piled his blankets back on. He checked his fever with the back of his hand. "You're getting worse. You need sleep, Will." He said as he reached for the cloth steeping in the basin.

"Sorry, Halt." He said.

"Just don't go getting up out of bed again. You're not well enough."

"Actually, I meant about yelling at you just now." Will confessed. Halt looked at him, mildly surprised.

"Oh. Well, yes. Don't do that again, either." He said, placing the cloth across Will's forehead. "And don't think that just because Gilan is here that you're going to get up out of bed any time soon."

Will smiled. "I'm just glad to have him here."

Halt grunted. "Two apprentices under one roof. I really have gone mad." He said, before getting up to help Gilan prepare breakfast. Despite Halt's gruff manner, Will was beaming. Because he knew that in Halt-speak, that meant that he was glad Gilan was there, too.


	5. Fever

Author's Note: You may or may not have noticed, but I went back and gave each individual chapter an actual _title! _Shocker, huh? And I even surprised myself by figuring out how many more chapters there are going to be to this story. Including those already posted, this should wrap up to be a seven-chapter story, and if I'm feeling good about it, there might just be a fancy-smancy epilogue-y type thing. This story is too short to have a real epilogue, but… You get the idea. Anyway, without further ado, here's the next chapter. Enjoy!

* * *

"Halt did _what_?!"

"You heard me – he tied the man to a tree while he dealt with his friends, then he bound and gagged them all and tied them up by their necks like a bunch of dogs and led them all the way back to castle Redmont."

Will was having trouble breathing, he was laughing so hard. Halt groaned.

"Gilan, stop poisoning the boy's mind with your exaggerated tales. You know they're not true."

"Nonsense, Halt – I was there, after all. You tied those seven men up and dragged them across country. You even made me help."

Halt sighed. "There were six, and they weren't gagged."

"No, until you stuffed the leader's mouth full with your sock when he wouldn't stop babbling."

Halt began to protest, but Will was holding his sides with laughter, and pained tears were streaming down his face. Halt's lips pressed together in annoyance, and he cocked a pepper-grey eyebrow at his apprentice.

"Think that's funny, do you?"

"F-funny?!" Will sounded out between giggles, "It's stinking hilarious! I didn't know… Tree… Dogs… Socks!" He dissolved into another fit of laughter.

Halt stood from where he'd been sitting. "If you weren't sick, you'd have a sock in your mouth right now." He grumbled. Begrudgingly, he took Will's half-eaten breakfast plate back to the kitchen, mumbling about disrespectful apprentices as he went.

Gilan was sitting back in his seat, smiling and looking particularly amused with the situation he had brought about. Until, that is, Will started coughing.

It started as lingering laughter, but Gilan's eyebrows twitched together in concern when he heard the rough wheezing noise that came with each breath Will took. The younger boy noticed it, too, and his expression changed from a wide smile to a mixture of pain and confusion. In a quick turn of events, the laughs melted into coughs - Rough, painful, deep-chested coughs that made Gilan wince at the sound of them. And they didn't stop. Once one cough was over, Will was so out of breath that he had to inhale, but his body refused to exhale in any other way besides another harsh cough, and the cycle started over. Realizing his predicament, a sense of panic overtook Will's features, and he sent a quick, pleading look up at Gilan. Immediately, the ranger was on his feet, and stepped over to Will.

"Breathe, Will." Gilan urged. He could tell that Will was already trying to breathe normally, but he couldn't think of anything else to say. His face grew more alarmed as Will started choking and gagging, taking in sudden breaths as if he was going to suffocate. Gilan grabbed the boy by the shoulder and guided him to bend over his waist to reduce the convulsive action that came each time he coughed. The coughing and gagging didn't stop, however, and Gilan patted Will firmly on the back, not knowing what else to do.

Desperately gasping for breath between coughs, panic having set in, Will reached out blindly and grabbed at Gilan's shirt, clinging on to it as if it was his lifeline. He bent almost flat over his lap at a particularly jarring cough.

Halt entered the room, his previous annoyance gone, concern in its place. He quickly stepped around Gilan and grabbed Will's forearm.

"Hold you breath, Will. It will delay the coughing." He said firmly, making sure that Will heard and understood him. Will tried to obey, but his immediate attempts were broken through by more coughs. "Keep trying." Halt urged. Will did, taking quick breaths in between. Slowly, the coughs dissipated, and Will's breathing was reduced to desperate, tired gasps as he tried to fill his lungs with clean air. He still clung to Gilan's shirt, and now exhausted and out of breath from the fit, he let his head fall on the tall ranger's shoulder, shaking and heaving for breath. Instinctively, Gilan put a protective arm around the boy's shoulders and his free hand went up to Will's head. Even through his shirt, Gilan could feel the heat radiating from Will's forehead where it touched his shoulder.

"Good Lord, Will, you're burning up." He said quietly, not really speaking to the boy who was clearly paying no attention to him or anything else beyond each breath he took. Gilan looked down at the bright red face at his shoulder, then sent a worried look up at Halt. He didn't have to say anything.

"Get him laid back down, and keep him breathing." Halt said, rising. He left the room and returned a few minutes later with something in his hand. He held it out to Will.

"Eat this." Halt said. "It'll help with the fever." Will bit into the medicinal biscuit, ignoring the bitter flavor. After he was done, Halt handed him a glass of tea. It was cold and quickly brewed, and Will could taste the medicine mixed in with the tea leaves. He'd had this particular medicine before, and knew it would help with his cough. He was grateful for the fact that Halt kept the medicines handy. It could never be said that Halt wasn't prepared. After he'd finished gulping down his tea, Halt looked him in the eye.

"You alright?" He asked. Will nodded.

"I think so. Thanks, Halt." He said quietly, hoping he wouldn't start coughing again.

Halt simply nodded. "Good." The ranger straightened. "You've had your breakfast and your medicine. Now lay down at get some sleep. Lord knows you need it." After getting Will situated under more blankets and putting a damp cloth across his forehead, Halt darkened the room with a second set of curtains made for the purpose. He gestured Gilan out of the room and shut the door behind them so that Will could finally sleep. He hadn't told Will, but Halt had added a sleep-aiding drug to the tea.

Once out of the room, Gilan was babbling on apologetically.

"Halt, I'm so sorry – I shouldn't have made him laugh, I didn't know what to do – I didn't know he was that sick, and he had a fever that bad and I just-"

"Gilan." Halt interrupted, firmly. He made sure the other man was looking him in the eye. "It's not your fault. You didn't know. It was an accident. Just be aware that we have to be careful – we don't know just how sick Will is." Gilan nodded. Halt nodded back, and then turned his gaze back to Will's bedroom door. "I just pray that he won't grow any worse. If he can last a day without falling back into another horrible fever like last night, I think he'll be on his way back to health. But we need to keep a sharp eye on him. Halt said. He gave his former apprentice a reassuring pat on the shoulder, then moved over to sink down into his designated chair by the hearth. "But in the meantime, we'll have to wait."

The rest of the day passed relatively smoothly. Gilan and Halt shared a late lunch consisting of light sandwiches, and Gilan composed a letter to Crowley while Halt went out to fetch water and cut firewood – The grizzled ranger hadn't realized how useful the boy had been around the house until he was unable to do his chores. Will awoke once or twice, usually asking for water to quench his dry throat. Gilan tried to coax him to eat something, but he maintained that he wasn't hungry. Much to Halt's relief, Will's fever had gone down, and was now only a lingering temperature. The sleeping draught that Halt had gave Will earlier seemed to be doing its job well, as Will slept soundly at varying intervals throughout the day. Gilan commented on how easily the boy was sleeping and Halt had admitted to drugging his apprentice. Gilan had looked at him as if he'd committed a crime in not telling the boy he'd been drugged, but then shrugged and conceded that it was for the best.

Late in the evening, Gilan was setting up his bedroll on top of the couch in the living area, and Halt was helping to get Will situated for the night before all three rangers went to sleep. Will had had a meager but filling meal of stew broth, and despite the amount of rest that he'd had already, was exhausted. A yawn split the young face for a few moments.

"I've been sleeping all day, but I'm so tired." He said, his voice hoarse.

Halt nodded. "Your body needs the rest. If you're tired, sleep. It'll help your recovery." He touched his hand to Will's forehead for the umpteenth time and was satisfied that it hadn't changed from the miniscule fever that had been present for the better part of that day. "With any luck, your fever will dissipate entirely by tomorrow."

Will smiled weakly at the prospect. "And I'll be glad for it." He said. "Shivering is surprisingly exhausting." As if to emphasize his point, a feverish chill ran over him, and he gave an involuntary shiver. Halt looked on with a touch of pity in eyes.

"Indeed. Now go to sleep. There's plenty of water in that pitcher there, if you should need any more tonight." Halt motioned to the clay pitcher on the bedside table.

Will nodded and huddled himself underneath his pile of blankets. "You know, Halt, it feels strange to have you telling me to sleep all the time. Usually you're complaining that I sleep in too late." He said.

Halt had to smile at his apprentice's comment. It was a rare, pleasant expression on the face of the reputably gruff ranger. "Go to sleep, Will." He said, affectionately ruffling his apprentice's hair.

Will smiled. "Good night, Halt."

"Good night."

Halt shut the door behind him as he left the room. He hadn't given Will any kind of medication since mid morning. He hadn't seen much need for it, and he didn't want to administer any kind of drug that wasn't needed – bad side effects could stem from that. He stopped outside of Will's door for a few moments, listening to the boy's even breathing, and assured himself that this wouldn't be a repeat of last night. Shaking off a shred of doubt, he went over to see that Gilan was making himself comfortable in his makeshift bed.

"I see you're situated nicely." He said.

Gilan nodded. "Quite. This is a nice couch you have here, Halt. You must have gotten a new one - I don't remember it being this nice when_ I_ lived here. Playing favorites with your apprentices, aren't you?"

Halt rolled his eyes and sighed in a despairing kind of way. "Good night, Gilan." He turned towards his own room, the shadows of the evening hiding his smile.

Gilan knew Halt well, and was able to read through the rough exterior and interpret his actions as Halt's equivalent to a fond smile and an affectionate pat on the shoulder. He smiled widely at Halt's back. "Good night, Halt!" He called after him. Then, he settled down to sleep.

Soon, all three rangers were sleeping quietly. But it wasn't to last very long.

* * *

Fire, heat, burning; now a cool breeze chilling his shoulders. Sweat? No, no moisture. His eyes darted around aimlessly beneath his eyelids. He was back at the bridge, he was sure of it. How, he didn't know. But he could feel the heat of the fire all around him, and could hear the Skandians yelling in rage. Horace was screaming at him urgently from the other side of the bridge – what, he didn't know, but the other boy was motioning for him to hurry. Evanlyn was beside him, working quickly as she tried to kindle the fire ablaze. It couldn't work. It wasn't. Suddenly, inexplicably, Evanlyn got up and darted back across the bridge, back to Horace, and the flames around him grew so high that Will could no longer see his friends through the smoke. He coughed in the dark, thick air. The heat was overwhelming, and was growing stronger. He looked around, and could see nothing but flame on either side, and a deep yawning abyss beneath him. He heard creaking, and snapping, and suddenly, the bridge had given way altogether, and he was falling through space, together with burning remnants of wood, rope and pitch scorching his skin. As he fell, the air rushed by him with a painfully cold force, and his eyes snapped shut. The mix of the fire and the cool air was torture. He spun around in dizzying circles and he feel deeper in to the chasm. Deeper, deeper, deeper still.

He sat up. He was still falling, still dizzy, still burning and freezing at the same time. And yet, he was seeing his room. The rushing air had robbed his throat of any moisture. Burning, fire, heat. He needed something cool. Something… Something… He threw back what looked like blankets from his legs, and stumbled over to his window. It was night. He threw back the curtains and snatched open the window. Cool air brushed across his cheeks. No, no. Too cold. Too much. Stop the wind. He slammed the window shut again. Falling… Falling… His vision swam dizzily across the room, searching. His eyes landed on the clay pitcher, and he stumbled for it. His throat tingled at the thought of water. Cool. Douse the fire. Kill the heat. He reached for it, but his fingers refused to support the weight of the full pitcher. It slipped off the table and fell to the floor with a crash, sending water flying.

The coolness had escaped from him – he had to get it back. He would burn without it. Something in him felt horribly guilty about breaking the pitcher, and he reached for a broken shard, which cupped a small pool of water. He drank from it, and then yelped when the sharp edge sliced into his palm. He dropped the object, and looked down at his hand. A noise startled him, and his vision swam back up.

"Will, what's going on?"

* * *

The crash had woken him. Halt had heard the clay pitcher fall from the table, and rose in alarm. After that, he'd heard Will's cry of pain, and he'd immediately gone to Will's room. When he opened the door, the sight that met him both confused and alarmed him.

Will was kneeling in the soaked carpet over the shattered remains of a clay pitcher, and was clutching his right hand, which was bleeding from a long cut on the palm.

"Will, what's going on?"

Will's head lazily tilted back to look up at his master, and Halt's gut twisted in alarm as he saw the delusional, feverish glaze over his apprentice's eyes. He cursed under his breath and knelt to inspect his apprentice.

"Too hot…" Will said in a weird way, his words slurred, his voice sounding oddly childlike. "Need… Cold. Cold's… Broken… Sorry." He said, his head rolling down to look at the broken shards of clay at his knees. Halt put a hand to Will's head and almost recoiled at the heat radiating off the boy. He cursed again, and refrained from palming himself in the face. He should have given the boy more medicine to keep down his fever. He should have known this might happen – but he didn't. He cursed himself and his stupidity, and inspected Will's hand. It was a relatively shallow cut, but it was bleeding badly.

"Gilan!" Halt called urgently in a carrying voice. "Gilan, get up! It's Will!" A few moments later, he heard the other man stir, and then Gilan's feet were padding across the floor to Will's room. His trousers were tied on loosely, his shirt was hanging open, and his eyes and hair further testified to the fact that he'd just been roused from a deep sleep.

"What? 'M up, Halt, I'm up… What in the name of- Oh good Lord!" Gilan's tired eyes managed to double in size at the sight before him – Will, feverish, injured and soaked in spilled water with Halt kneeling over him.

"Gilan, you need to ride to Castle Redmont. Get a physician. Now." The urgency in Halt's voice roused Gilan from his drowsiness. "The man's name is Aaron Fletcher. Ask for him by name and get him over here as quickly as you can manage. Will won't last much longer without help."

Halt's last words were what really got Gilan going. He pulled on some riding clothes, strapped on his weapons, and marched out the door. Blaze's head shot up as he sensed his master's urgency. The other two horses' ears shot up as well. The three equines watched anxiously as Gilan pulled a saddle onto Blaze and mounted. Tug whinnied, and Gilan shushed him gently.

"Come on, boy." He said hurriedly, and urged Blaze into a quick gallop, setting his sights for the iron red castle sitting clear in the distance.


	6. Infirmary

Author's Note: Sorry it took so stinking long to get this chapter up. Every time I sat down to write, something came up. School. Chores. The need for sleep (or coffee). Life in general. At any rate, here's the next chappie! Enjoy!

* * *

It was a peaceful night. The moon was nearly full, and cast a calm, bluish light across the fields surrounding the castle that gave everything a serene, smooth look. The grass waved and roared in the night wind, and an owl hooted from the edge of the woods.

Inside the castle, he had been sleeping fitfully, arms wrapped around his wife with a calm breeze drifting in from the slightly open window above their bed. His eyebrows twitched in his sleep as a foreign noise broke the silence of the night. It was quiet at first, but then it grew louder. It sounded like hoof beats on flagstones. He frowned in his slumber, turned, readjusted his arms around his wife, and settled back down to sleep. The hoof beats had ended. A few moments later, however, and there were quick footsteps growing louder and louder. Next thing he knew, someone was pounding on his door loud enough for the deaf to hear. After a few confused, sleepy groans, he started awake and sat up. His wife, also roused by the ruckus, was rubbing her eyes, mumbling something or other.

He rose, hastily tucking his nightshirt into his trousers as he walked, and went over to the door. Short grey hair sticking out at odd angles from sleep, he answered the door and couldn't help but widen his eyes a little at the tall, alarmed ranger standing in his doorway.

"Aaron Fletcher?" The tall man asked, slightly out of breath.

"Yes, that's me." He said groggily after a moment. His wife and daughters had come out to see who had come knocking on their door at two in the morning.

"Healer?"

"Yes, I am a healer." At the question, Aaron immediately became more alert. He knew from experience where this conversation was heading. "What's wrong?" He asked. The general compassion that drove him to pursue a life in medical work now compelled him to be eager to help.

"It's Will," The tall man said, "The Ranger; Halt's apprentice. He's a fever fiercer than I've ever seen – burning up and it won't go down." He was jumbling his words together. "Halt told me to come get you as quickly as I could. Please help."

Aaron nodded quickly, and looked back at the twin teen girls peering out from their room across the hall.

"Rose, Lily, my things – go!"

The two tall brunettes, despite having been rudely awakened by a frantic ranger and still in their night gowns, nodded and quickly hurried off to another room. Aaron went over and spoke quickly and quietly to his wife, who hurried off after her daughters.

"How long has he had a fever?" Aaron asked as he pulled on his boots.

"He's been sick for three, four days. He's had a fever most of that time, but last night he woke up burning up. He's delusional – babbling nonsense."

Lily and Rose reappeared carrying a heavy satchel that rattled with various bottles, herbs and remedies. Their mother followed soon after with a coat for Aaron, which he donned with a clear look of gratitude towards his family.

"Thank you. Now, Ranger…"

"Gilan."

"Ranger Gilan," Aaron addressed him with the smallest hint of surprise. He recognized the name, and remembered treating the young man several times when Gilan was Halt's apprentice. He suppressed the recognition, however, and stepped towards the door. There were more important things to attend to.

"We haven't a moment to lose. Come on."

* * *

Halt was trying desperately to keep Will talking to him – anything to ensure that his apprentice didn't fall into a lapse where the fever could overtake him completely. The babbling was generally meaningless to Halt, but after a while, the words started to all correlate to one particular thing.

"No no no… Heat… Ahhh, stop it. It's not too far off… Just shoot that one and spark it off… Pitch on rope… Help." Will's eyes were far-off and unfocused as his brow contorted in response to unseen events playing out in his hallucination. Halt held the boy's head in his lap, constantly checking his forehead for any change in temperature.

"No, falling…" Will looked pained. "Why is it always falling? Ev'lyn… 'Or'ce… So far… Hot… Too hot."

After several long, incessant periods of rambling, Halt had concluded that Will was reliving a jumbled version of his experiences on Morgarath's bridge, the bridge that he burnt down. Halt still did not know exactly what had transpired on that bridge, but knowing just how Will had brought it down, it was logical to assume that the boy's subconscious had made a mental connection between the heat of the fever and the heat of the fire at the bridge. He was surprised, however, when Will said his name.

"Halt…" He said, and for a moment, Halt thought that the boy had come back to some semblance of reality and realized that Halt was leaning over him. However, this was far from the truth. "Said he'd find me." Will slurred out. "Just you see, Ev'lyn… Just see." Will's face was peaceful, and for a split second, Halt was relieved. But when Will stopped talking all together, panic took over.

"Will? Will! Stay awake, Will!" Halt patted the apprentice's cheek and tousled his head a touch roughly, trying to rouse him. "Talk, Will, talk. What happened at the bridge, Will? Tell me, what did I – what did Halt tell you? What happened at Three Step Pass?" Halt rattled off some questions relating to what Will had been talking about, trying to coax his mind into talking again.

"Said… Said he'd find me. Promised." Will said, his eyes drooping a bit. "I know he will. Always does. Never broken a promise once. I… I know he'll find me… Just wait and see. Just… Wait. Halt's always there…"

Under normal circumstances, Halt might have been touched by the words, but as it was, Halt couldn't even think about sentimentality. All he was worried about was Will's life, which seemed to be very quickly ebbing away before his eyes.

"Bridge… Had to go…" Will was babbling again, "Burned it… Shot them… But now… Falling…" His eyes fluttered, and he looked like was going to pass out entirely, but it was then that Aaron and Gilan came bursting through the door. Aaron went quickly over to where Halt was and assessed Will's condition at a glance. He bit back a curse and let out a heavy breath of air.

"Gilan, get me a bucket of water." He skipped any greetings that he might have for the other rangers, and started giving orders. "Halt, help me get him back onto the bed." As Gilan hurried out of the room, Halt got up carefully around his delusional apprentice and helped the healer get the boy back onto his small bed.

"He's too hot." Aaron was saying as they adjusted Will on the mattress. "The fever has gotten too much – we have to get him cooled down fast." As he said this, he ripped open Will's shirt and tossed it aside, laying an ear against the flushed skin of his chest to listen to the ragged pattern of the boy's breathing. He grimaced, and straightened. He was about to ask Halt for something when Gilan returned with a full bucket of water.

Without saying anything, Aaron took the bucket and unceremoniously dumped all of its contents splashing onto Will's torso and face, sending the boy into a small fit of sputtering.

"Open the window." He told Gilan as he piled more pillows behind Will to keep his chest elevated. The breeze from the window came through the room across to Will, and the boy shivered slightly, but Aaron made no move to stop him. "Halt, put this on his head." The healer handed the ranger a cold wet cloth before he headed over to his back of tricks to pull out multiple vials and bundles. After painfully force-feeding an herbal concoction to the soaking wet, half-conscious, fever-stricken boy, Will was in hardly a better state than he had been when Aaron had arrived. The healer stood up, swiped back his hair in a determined way, and then went to work on the next remedy.

It was going to be a long, hard night.

* * *

The Redmont infirmary was usually a quiet place. The castle inhabitants were generally healthy enough that the only persons in need of frequent medical attention were the elderly, the disabled, and of course the rowdy battleschool apprentices.

Today, however, both Aaron and his senior apprentice were buzzing about frantically, their eyes bloodshot, hands quick, and minds working wildly to concoct a cure for the sickly ranger's apprentice lying in their medical wing. The sun had only just begun to rise above the horizon, but Aaron had already been at work for hours.

Off in one corner, watching all of the proceedings with an underlying burr of anxiety in his stance, was Halt. When Aaron had made the decision to bring Will back to the infirmary, Gilan had stayed out of the healer's way to keep things easier for him, but Halt had insisted on staying. Dark eyes followed the actions of the healer and his apprentice as they darted this way and that about the room, but they ultimately landed on the clammy, still form of Will, who had been unconscious for the better part of three hours, now.

It was his fault, Halt thought, that Will was even here. If he had only paid more attention – if he had seen the signs and treated them accordingly, Will wouldn't be here. If he had simply given the boy more medical attention, he would probably be fine. Halt mentally smacked himself upside the head and sighed in annoyance. He had been so quick to assume that Will was well again. And now? Now the boy was unconscious, in the infirmary, with two exhausted healers trying desperately to break his dangerously high fever – all because Halt hadn't seen that danger first.

It may have been days, it may have been hours later – Halt wasn't quite sure - before Aaron finally came over to the ranger.

"His fever has finally broken." The man said, wiping sweat from his own brow. With a huge sigh of relief and the tiniest of smiles, Aaron looked back at his ward. "The worst is over. Now, he just needs time."

* * *

The birds were chirping that morning. He could feel his cheeks warm pleasantly in the sunlight streaming in from the window. Something thick, soft and heavy was lying neatly across most of his body. He very slowly opened his eyes and looked about. Despite the fact that it was bright outside, it was not painfully so. As his eyes adjusted, he very quickly realized that he was not in his room. The ceiling above him was made of stone, and the window across from him looked out from a second-story view to the east. Looking down, he noted that he was wearing plain white linen breeches and shirt, and that a thick wool blanket covered him from the waist down. On that blanket, in the crook of a familiar arm, Halt's head lay still - hair tousled, eyes darkened, and altogether very decidedly asleep. Will blinked a few times at the odd sight and looked about himself some more. He wasn't precisely sure what had happened or what he had done to get himself landed in the infirmary, but it was logical to assume that it had something to do with the sickness that had taken him some days ago. He could still feel the lingering grogginess and thick taste in the back of his throat, but it was not as bad as he remembered it being when he'd gone to sleep the night before.

He looked over at Halt again, half expecting the man to have woken in the few seconds that Will had looked away, but he hadn't, and so Will simply smiled down at his master, who he decided looked uncharacteristically peaceful while asleep, leaned back on his pillows, closed his eyes, and drifted back off into a restful sleep.

* * *

Throughout the rest of the day, Will received a few visitors, though he was not awake to greet them properly. Lady Pauline and Alyss had been the first to come, Alyss with a small bundle of wildflowers in hand for her bed-bound friend. Both couriers had had a light laugh at Halt's expense, but the older ranger hadn't seemed to care very much, as he had been sound asleep still.

Horace had come by briefly, rather concerned and under the impression that Will was still in critical condition. However, after Aaron's sleepy apprentice had explained to the anxious knight-in-training that Will was, in fact, alive and on the road to recovery, Horace had calmed down. It was then that he had noticed Halt, and taken some amusement in seeing the normally uncannily alert ranger in such a deep sleep.

Will remained asleep for the rest of the day, and though some considered it, none of the healers dared to move Halt, fearing what the ranger might do if roused. Gilan took a sympathetic kind of amusement in the whole thing, and commented to Aaron what a monstrous crick in the neck Halt would have when he woke up. The healer laughed dryly and had to agree.

It was late in the evening, near dusk, when Will woke up again. This time, he found Gilan sitting on the side of his bed not occupied by Halt, reading a book by candlelight.

"Gilan?" He said quietly. He was still incredibly drowsy and a touch disoriented. The other ranger, who hadn't noticed Will's consciousness yet, looked over and his eyes lit up when he saw Will awake.

"Will!" He said, keeping his voice down. There was no need to talk loudly to a just barely awake sick boy and a sleeping ranger inside an abandoned infirmary. "It's good to see you awake, finally. How are you feeling?"

It took a moment for Will to answer. He looked around as if to remember where he was. "Worn." He mustered. "I feel like like Horace decided to use me as his punching bag again. Several times." Will reached up to rub his head, and Gilan laughed lightly, a look of deep sympathy on his face.

"I can understand that one. You gave us all a right scare last night – nearly died!" Gilan said, not even thinking about masking the truth that Will had, in fact, been on death's doorstep. "Aaron – he's the healer that saved your life, by the way – said he hasn't seen a fever so bad in years. You're lucky to be here, Will. And awake after only a day, at that!" Gilan was truly impressed by Will's recovery.

In truth, Will felt nothing but gratitude toward this Aaron person, but he had to groan when he attempted to turn his head a bit too quickly. "Well, that's all perfectly well, but I wonder if I shouldn't have woken up in the first place." Will said, grimacing. "My head hurts something awful."

Gilan nodded, and rose. "You're probably hungry." He said. "Haven't eaten anything all day, have you? Course not, you were asleep." Gilan looked around, and when he saw that there was no food to be found, he rose from his seat. "I'll go see if your friend, Jenny, is still up at the kitchens. She's been asking about you all day, but hasn't been able to come up because of her work." Gilan smiled. "You have a lot of friends here, Will. Alyss came by and gave you those." He directed Will's attention to a cheerfully bright bundle of wildflowers sitting on a small table near to where Gilan had just been sitting. The young apprentice smiled warmly. Of course, Alyss, of all people, would think to bring him flowers.

"I'll be back in a moment." Gilan said, before leaving for the kitchens.

In Gilan's absence, Will directed his attention back to Halt, who had hardly moved from where he had been that morning, and the boy just couldn't help but wonder how on earth the man had managed to stay asleep in such an uncomfortable position for so long. However, Will couldn't help but grin at the look on Halt's sleeping face. For however unsmiling, hard and stern Halt made himself out to be, Will had long since learned Halt was really rather soft at the core, hidden under his grim reputation. Now, Will could see the softer side of Halt playing out on his sleeping features – even if the ranger did look rather silly with half of his face smashed up against his arm as it was.

A few minutes later Gilan returned with a bowl of stew broth and a hunk of bread. It smelled delicious, but thankfully, the smell was not too rich, and so Will had a dinner of broth-soaked bread. Gilan handed Will a glass of water afterwards, and when he drank it, Will commented that it tasted strange.

"Oh, well…" Gilan avoided Will's eyes, but couldn't bring himself to lie to the boy. "It's, eh… It's a sleeping drought. Aaron told me to give it to you if you woke up." Gilan looked apologetically at Will.

For his part, Will was relieved that he wasn't imagining the pungent taste of the water, but a bit alarmed that he was presently being drugged.

"It's just to get you your rest." Gilan told him reassuringly. "I didn't mean to-"

"It's alright, Gilan." Will said. "I understand. Just tastes funny, is all." With that, though a little apprehensive, Will downed the rest of the concoction. After he was done, he looked down at Halt again, and had to ask:

"How long has he been lying there?" He gestured towards the sleeping man.

Gilan laughed. "All day. He's going to have a fine time recovering from _that_ crick in the neck, I can tell you." He shook his head as he stacked up Will's dishes. "Aaron left him some herbs for the pain. He's a good man, Aaron, but I don't know much it will help. Halt's been sleeping as dead as a rock since this morning."

Will laughed with his friend, though it was a weak attempt in his worn out state. "Funny, I didn't even know he _could _sleep during the day. Not to mention for so long." Will said, making a jibe at Halt's tendency to live on very little sleep – typically, coffee replaced any actual sleeping in the Ranger's day-to-day life.

Gilan let out a bark of laughter at this, and the two apprentices, present and former, looked down at their mentor, eyes alight with humor.

"Indeed. But, then again, it's probably for the best. He does have quite a few years of insomnia to catch up on." The taller man teased as he rose. With a last smile down at Halt, Gilan turned to Will and couldn't keep himself from reaching out and ruffling the shock of brown hair atop the younger man's head. "Good to have you back, Will. Now get some sleep."

As Gilan walked off, Will felt an odd wave of drowsiness overcome him and knew that the sleeping drought was starting to take effect. He sighed and leaned back, relaxing his back against the mound of pillows at the head of the bed. From where he was, he could look out the window and watch the distant lights in the village go out one by one. The sound of the breeze rushing through the trees had a calming effect on him, and his eyelids began to drift closed, but he wasn't quite ready to succumb to the drug yet.

A few minutes later, at the sound of an owl hooting loudly from outside the window, Halt awoke with a start. He was surprised at how dark it was when he looked around. Judging by the sparse light, it was well past sundown in Redmont. He didn't see Aaron or his apprentice anywhere, but when he looked over at Will, whom he thought was still asleep, he was surprised to see the boy's eyes silted slightly open.

"Wondering when you'd wake up." His apprentice commented weakly. Halt sat up immediately, but stopped short with a grimace when his neck refused to turn properly without shooting pain down his spine. Will smiled sympathetically at him.

"I'm sorry. Gilan did say you'd have a crick in your neck. I think Aaron left you some medication for it on that table over there." Will looked over at a table that sat not too far away. Halt ignored it.

"You're awake." He said, and looked Will over.

"For now. Gilan managed to drug me, and I have to say that it's doing its job rather well." He blinked heavily.

"But… You're alright."

Will smiled and nodded.

Halt's shoulders drooped in relief, but his face shone with guilt. "Will, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have assumed you were well, I should have taken better care of you…"

"Halt, don't." Will stopped the man, laying a hand over Halt's as he spoke. "If you'd taken any better care of me, I think I'd be smothered. You did everything you could as well as you could do it." He gave him a genuine smile. "Just like you always have; just like I know you always will."

Halt looked at him, and remembered briefly the words that Will had said in his delusional state the previous night. _"Halt's always there…" _True, the situations were completely different, but somehow Halt was touched at just how much his apprentice trusted him, whether conscious, healthy or otherwise, and found himself smiling, however small, back at Will.

"Thank you." Halt said warmly. Then, his eyebrows came down like thunderclouds over his eyes, and he frowned at his apprentice in a way that, though it may have appeared angry, Will interpreted as deep concern. "Just don't go waltzing up to death's door again any time soon. I swear, half of the grey hairs on my head are from your careless antics…"

Will snorted. Sure, Will had just been _begging _to miss the gathering, go delusional with fever, end up in the infirmary with many bed-ridden days ahead of him to look forward to. After all, what else was an apprentice ranger supposed to do with his spare time? Despite the begrudging thought, Will couldn't keep from smiling. It seemed that among other things, the drug had taken away his normal ability to keep his emotions off his face. Halt looked sidelong at his apprentice.

"What are you smiling at?"

Will just shook his head, but couldn't manage to wipe the smile off of his face. "Nothing. It's just good to be back. I'm sorry I put you through all that, Halt." Will said.

Halt sighed. "I suppose I can forgive you." He looked Will in the eye. "Just don't do it again, else _all _my hairs will turn grey." This elicited a laugh from the apprentice, who was very quickly falling towards a drug-induced sleep. His emotions were becoming easier to read by the second, and Halt had to smile at the almost childlike demeanor Will had about him, now.

"Glad you're here, Halt." Will said, his eyes drooping. Halt chuckled and adjusted the pillows on the bed so that Will could lie down.

"And I'm glad to be here. Now you need to sleep."

Will hummed in agreement as he settled against the pillows. As Halt rose to leave, Will tapped his hand.

"Halt?" He asked, his voice drowsy and quiet. Halt turned around.

"Hmm?"

"Love you, Halt."

It was the last thing that he had been expecting, but somehow, Halt wasn't entirely surprised by the words. They seemed to be the unspoken undertone to their relationship. Some chord inside him had been hit, and the grizzled old ranger found himself wondering if this was what it felt like to be a father. Despite the awful crick in his neck, ignoring the lingering worry over Will, Halt smiled as his apprentice drifted off to sleep. Indeed, if this was what being a father was like, Halt decided that he liked it. Even if it _did_ mean that he would never escape Will's apprenticeship with any dark hairs left. It was well worth it.

"I love you too, son."

* * *

A/N: Aw, how sweet.

Whew! Long chapter, that one! Six down, one to go! Look for the next update!


	7. Welcome Home

Author's Note:

First, I would like to extend a thank you to an unknown, unreachable author, Zaber3.

**Dear Zaber3, **

**I would like to thank you very much for your lovely flame. Not only did the entire thing give me a hearty laugh, but it was also incredibly useful for roasting marshmallows to make cyber-s'mores, which will be handed out to all who actually bother reading my story before reviewing it. **

**Thanks again,**

**Elfpen**

Now that that's taken care of, back to the actual author's note. As many of you know, this is the last chapter of this story. A sad day, yet a relieving one. I rarely get around to finishing any stories these days, and I'm glad to have this one done and off my plate. I hope that I finish and wrap it up in accordance with all of your expectations. Enjoy.

Also, a BIG thanks to Furuba99SSBB, who gave me the idea that you'll see executed in this chapter. I was scraping the bottom of the barrel for ideas, coming up with only overly-mushy premises and a good deal of splinters until she showed up and threw out a funny, clever idea that (I think) is totally in the character of everyone involved. So, thanks a million, Furuba99SSBB!

Wow. Long author's note. On with the show!

* * *

It was early morning, and the sun was only metres above the horizon, casting long morning shadows and illuminating the drops of dew that lay fresh on the grass. The breeze was slight, but crisp and fresh, the temperature only just stirring away the cold of last night. Across the fields of Redmont fief, the sounds of the just-woken farmers and their families could be heard – a door shutting softly, a cart beginning its rolling trail down the main road. Overall, it was a supremely peaceful morning, as mornings tended to be here at the edge of the forest.

One of the few observers to the early sight couldn't hold back his small smile. He breathed in the fresh morning air, enjoying the sweet taste of it. He surveyed the expansive view of the village and the castle beyond it with a lifted feeling before heading off to his morning chores. He remembered a time quite clearly when he hated mornings. Often, he proffered sleep over early rising, as most wards did. It was shocking what a year or two in Ranger training did to a person. Many things, his unsleeping master among them, had long since converted him to the peculiar race of 'morning people', and he now enjoyed mornings, despite the chores and lost sleep. Well, so long as there was coffee to be had.

But he had already downed his first cup in record time, and so he had no qualms now about fetching the water.

Heaving up the bucket with practiced ease, Will trudged over to the small stream behind the cabin in a casual way, though his eyes scanned the surrounding area subconsciously. He wasn't wearing his cloak this early in the morning; he liked the feel of the cool breeze. He scooped up a bucketful and turned back toward the small cottage. This would be his thirty-first and last trip back to the cabin's water reservoir, and so once he'd deposited the bucket and its water, he went up on the veranda and sat in his designated canvas chair, which stood on the opposite side of the doorway from Halt's.

It had been three weeks since he'd been admitted to the infirmary. He'd spent one-third of that time in the infirmary itself (much to his chagrin) being treated like a king, but feeling like a prisoner. There was nothing worse, Will had concluded, than being bedridden non-stop for a week with nothing to do and healers and their apprentices watching your every move like sentinels. He, Halt and Gilan had shared a small celebration when he was finally allowed to return home, but the festivities were short lived. Halt quickly had him back on his regimented schedule, with reinforced severity to make up for lost time. Will smiled at the thought, remembering how many times Halt had grimaced in the past week at an only marginally perfect shot of Will's bow, and muttered the enduring mantra, 'Practice, practice, and more practice.', a careful eye on his apprentice, before grumbling something derogatory about infirmary protocol taking the edge off his protégé.

Gilan had left a day or two after Will had returned home. He didn't want to leave, but was sure that the lord of Merric fief would start sending Halt threatening letters if he didn't sent Gilan back soon.

So off he went, and life was back to normal in Halt's cabin – if it was ever 'normal' to begin with, anyway.

Halt broke into Will's thoughts suddenly, the door squeaking in its noisy way as the older ranger stepped out on the veranda and wordlessly handed Will a second mug of coffee. Will smiled at his master and took it gratefully. Halt sunk into his own chair and sipped at the steaming cup in his hand. He stared out across the calm, familiar fields, and rested several minutes in silence before saying:

"A lovely morning."

"Yes, it is." Will said without looking over at him.

Another pause.

"Not too much wind. Good for shooting. Why don't you go see if you can work off all that lying around you've been doing? Then we'll do some knife practice." Halt said. His voice was as steady as ever, but Will, familiar with Halt's mannerisms, just barely caught the hint of amusement lying beneath it. He held back a grimace as he swallowed the last of his coffee. Halt just loved torturing him, he thought.

With the slightest of sighs, Will rose, grumbling, to retrieve his bow and quiver, which had been receiving extended practice the past two weeks. Halt only smiled deviously at the complaints. _Music, sweet music._

And so, from morning till noon, Will was drawing and firing arrows at a blinding, ranger-standard rate. Near, far, left, right, up down, random succession. Every arrow hit its mark. At some points, Halt would go out behind the cabin where he was practicing and give a compliment masked in dry sarcasm, nod approvingly, perhaps give a few instructions, before leaving his apprentice to his own devices.

But for all Halt's extended misgivings, Will was doing surprisingly well for being three weeks out of practice, and Halt was, all things considered, impressed. However, there _was _a reason for the extra practice hours he'd ordered for Will. The young apprentice didn't know it yet, but a letter had arrived a few days ago with an interesting proposition. Halt, for his own amusement more than anything else (though he would later insist that it was some sort of impromptu training exercise for Will) had kept the letter from his apprentice, and Will was happily oblivious to the surprise that awaited him.

From his chair on the porch with the quick _thunk thunk thunk _of arrows hitting wood drifting in from the woods, Halt sat poring over new reports. Occasionally, he glanced up to the road just by the woods, as if he was expecting someone. He looked over at Abelard.

"You didn't tell the boy anything, did you?"

The horse looked over at him in a long-suffering way.

"Good. It'll do him some good for a surprise. Keep him on his toes." Halt indulged in a sardonic smile. "Keep him on his toes, indeed."

* * *

Later that afternoon, after he'd eaten his midday meal and taken a brief respite from shooting, Will was back at it again, this time with his throwing knife. After he'd finished the hour of practice that Halt had prescribed, he was quite sure that he'd done enough. He started around the cabin to go to the front door. He'd grown strong enough over the past few years so that he no longer became exhausted from hours of practice, but that didn't mean that he wouldn't be exceedingly happy to sit down in his chair and have a nice glass of cool water. He rounded the corner. After all, there was a nice big bucket of water sitting conveniently by the door, right over-

"Gilan!" Will stopped short of his intended destination to stare wide-eyed at the smiling blonde figure before him.

"Hullo, Will." But it wasn't Gilan's voice who said it. Will turned and visibly started, his eyes widening further.

"Crowley! What are you doing here?" Will looked back and forth between the two new arrivals, Gilan, standing on the edge of the porch, and Crowley, who'd made himself comfortable in Will's canvas chair by the door.

"Oh, nothing much." Crowley said dismissively, smiling faintly. "Just paying a house visit to a few hermits who couldn't be bothered to actually show up at the gathering. Don't act so surprised, Will! It's not like you didn't know we were coming or anything." Crowley laughed lightly, but stopped when Will's expression continued along the lines of utter befuddlement. The Commandant's smile faded. He turned his head to glare over at Halt, who was slouching comfortably in his own chair. "You _did _tell him, didn't you, Halt?"

Halt stared out across the horizon for a moment, pretending not to have heard, until Crowley coughed loudly in his direction. "Hmm? Oh, yes… It must have slipped my mind." Halt told the other ranger innocently.

"Slipped your mind?" Crowley asked dryly, cocking an eyebrow.

Halt, unfazed, nodded seriously. "Getting a bit forgetful in my old age, I'm afraid. By the way, Will," Halt turned towards his confused apprentice, "I forgot to tell you: Crowley and his lot are coming this afternoon for your formal assessment."

It took a moment for the words to sink in, but when they did: "My _what?" _Will's voice unintentionally cracked higher as he said it, and he could feel a blush rising on his cheeks.

"You going deaf, boy? Your formal assessment – the one you missed at the gathering." Halt told him, before remarking aside to Crowley, "Young people. Always answering simple statements with questions." He shook his head.

Will, however, didn't even notice the insult. Instead, he marched past the veranda and looked over at the lean-to that usually housed Abelard and Tug. There was an unusually large amount of ranger horses standing out in the small clearing around the shelter – including his and Halt's, Will counted nine in total. But that meant that…

"Seven of us came in total." Gilan said from behind Will's left shoulder.

"Gilan! Don't _do _that!" Will whirled around suddenly to face the other ranger.

Gilan stayed where he was and smiled before continuing on as if Will hadn't said anything. "Crowley, Myself, and five of the other senior and higher-rank rangers, to assess your training. Though I haven't the slightest idea where we're all supposed to sleep…" Gilan's brow furrowed suddenly as he looked up at the rather small cabin to his left.

Will looked at him, horrified, and then stormed back over to the veranda where Halt and Crowley were arguing in moderate voices.

"I can't believe you didn't tell him, Halt."

"It's for his own good. Keep his responses sharp."

Crowley scoffed. "Sharp responses indeed. You're going to make Will paranoid."

"Crowley, it's hardly done any harm. Just a bit of fun."

"Fun! Halt, this is his assessment – the least you could have done was give him a day's warning-"

"And have to deal with his nervous wreck the rest of the day? No, it's better this way, all at once."

"You just like to see him suffer, don't you?"

"Me? Enjoy Will's pain? I can hardly entertain the thought. I'm surprised at you, Crowley."

"Halt, has anyone ever told you that you are a sadist?"

"Never heard it."

"Well you're hearing it now."

"Oh, if you had an apprentice, you'd enjoy it too."

"I cannot _believe _you."

"What in the world is going on?" Will burst in, confused and a little more than annoyed. The older rangers abandoned their bickering match and turned towards the young man. "Why on earth is there a small army of rangers on our doorstep? Are you really here to assess me? When did you get here? And why the bloody blazes didn't you tell me about it?" Will turned an accusatory glare at his master.

Crowley took the initiative. "Well," He said, composing himself, "when I received Gilan's letter a few weeks ago, and was informed that you would miss your annual assessment – again – I decided that it wasn't fair or decent for an apprentice to go so long without being formally tested by the heads of the Corps. So, I put together an impromptu team to come out and give you a, er, house call, under the special circumstances." Crowley smiled encouragingly at him. "As for why your dear old teacher here decided to keep this information from you…" Crowley looked over at Halt. "Your guess is as good as mine. Though I'd wager it has something to do with the fact that his mind is a twisted, sick bundle of-"

"Just trying to keep you on your toes, Will." Halt cut in quickly. He then looked at Crowley, and motioned towards Will. "Whenever you're ready, you can start." Crowley nodded, and Will stepped forward indignantly.

"B-But Halt," He sputtered. "That's… That's not _fair!_" He managed. It was a lousy protest, and he knew it. However, rather than making some sharp sally about 'fairness', Halt looked over at his apprentice calmly and said:

"Not fair? Perhaps. But don't worry, Will. You're in good health; I'm sure you'll do just fine." And then subtly, so that only Will could see, Halt winked, with the lightest of smiles resting on his face. Surprised at the gesture, Will suddenly felt a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He fought it, but it showed anyway. He felt his aggravation melting away. Something about Halt's confidence in him made the whole situation better immediately – and the words he chose to express that confidence made Will think ruefully back on the day that had started this whole mess.

Gilan, the only other ranger who had caught the slight interchange, smiled to himself as he surveyed his two friends. After a moment or two, he stepped down off the veranda.

"Right, then." He said authoritatively. "Now that we have dear old Halt's permission, let's go see how your unseen movement's coming along, shall we, Will?" Gilan clapped the younger man on his back and guided him off into the forest. As he did so, Will shook his head.

"He did this on purpose, didn't he, Gil?" He asked, smiling despite himself.

Gilan chuckled. "Of course he did. Did something similar to me once or twice." Gilan told him, then added, "But he does it because he's glad to have you back, Will. He just doesn't know what to do with himself when he doesn't have an apprentice to torture." Gilan leaned in and whispered: "I'd just go along with it if I were you. In Halt-speak, it's more or less like he's giving you a giant bear hug and saying 'welcome home'."

Will smiled, and glanced back at his straight-faced mentor. "I know."

* * *

From his seat on the porch, Halt watched Will with a thoughtful eye. Apprentices could be difficult things, he knew. At best, they required constant attention and endless nurturing. They spouted off endless questions without thinking, ate every piece of food in his cupboards without thought to the dwindling contents of his purse, and consumed altogether too much of his coffee. They complained, slept too late, did too little, and insisted on following him everywhere. And yet, somehow, someway, inexplicably, this bothersome little excuse for an apprentice had found a place in Halt's heart that was considerably closer to that of a son than a pupil. Will was special to him, he couldn't deny it. When the boy had been lying feverishly on death's doorstep, Halt couldn't even bear the thought of what he would do if he lost him. And now that Will was back, alive, healthy, and just as badgering as ever, Halt felt oddly joyful, thankful, and an unusual swell of affection for Will.

Not that he would ever show it. At least, not in any conventional way. Surprising the boy with a impromptu, grueling training assessment by the Corps Commandant was much more befitting to Halt's style. However, Halt knew that Will received the underlying message when he caught sight of the grin on the boy's face as Gilan lead him away.

Yes, Halt thought, despite their endless questions, bottomless appetites, and all-around knack for annoying him to hell and back, apprentices, especially Will, had a certain way of bringing that bright, cheerful spot into his life as no one else could. It was good to have Will back home and healthy, Halt thought as he watched his former apprentice guide his current apprentice off towards the forest. Briefly, Will looked back up at Halt and grinned at him. In a rare turn of events, Halt grinned back – a genuine, wide smile.

Yes, it was definitely good to have the boy back.

_~The End~_


End file.
